- Karen Siwak is a 61-year-old woman in Toronto.
- She was the mother and primary caretaker of her two children, aged 27 and 24.
- While downsizing in preparation for a move, Karen found two large plastic bins full of baby clothes.
This as-told-to essay is based on a conversation with Karen Siwak. It has been edited for length and clarity.
Underneath my stairway, packed far out of eyesight, are boxes of baby toys and clothes that I knew were there but hadn't touched for 20 years. It wasn't until I started downsizing in preparation for a move that I found them.
I pulled the boxes into my living room, and when I opened them, I could still smell the baby laundry detergent I had once used.
It was a visceral experience — I could feel what it was like to hold them all those years ago.
I had so many memories
My daughter had been wearing one of the outfits when 9/11 happened. I remember looking down at her while I nursed thinking that the world she was going to grow up in was so different than the world I had imagined for her.
When my son was 9 months old, I took him to Germany on my back and walked with him over all the hills. I picked up several German outfits for him so he would look like a little German hiker. I'd sing to him as we wandered together. Though he couldn't walk, he was so excited to see so much. I kept a few pieces of clothing from that trip.
It was a little bit like opening a photobook that you haven't looked at in years, except it was in 3D.
Sitting on the floor, clothes all around, I felt a strong sense of nostalgia and an overwhelming love for my kids. I loved mothering them so much. It was such a special time in my life and a huge part of my identity. I quit my job to raise them, pouring everything into them.
The early days of motherhood are unique
In those early days, when they were completely bound to me, I bonded with them in such an intense way, present for them at every moment. Normally, I'm not sentimental, but those early days of motherhood are unique. It was different from anything else I've done in my life. These clothes weren't just a piece of them, but a piece of myself.
While I was going through the clothes, I texted my kids to see if they wanted me to set anything aside for them. They both told me to throw it all out. They obviously couldn't remember wearing them and had no interest in saving them in case they had their own kids one day. I certainly don't want them to carry my burden of sentimentality — that would be so unfair.
I was the only person in the world to whom these tiny pieces of clothing mattered — the only one who held the memories attached to them.
I went through every outfit
I didn't just want to go through and get rid of them thoughtlessly — they aren't garbage. Instead, I wanted to go through each outfit respectfully and slowly, remembering the moments my children wore each.
Washing them all and then folding them, I decided on what I would keep and what I would give away to other young mothers. I only kept a few pieces — everything else has been put to one side to give away.
I'll never have another human being attached to me, like when my kids were babies, and their clothes represented that for me. I'm sad to say goodbye to them, but hopeful they will go on to give another the same joy as they have me.